Hers
by PrettyPrettyShinyShiny
Summary: Harry decided to get away from the war- taking in five babies while doing so! In another bid to remain inconspicuous, he changed from male to female and now goes by Lily. But she'll be found out eventually...
1. Chapter 1

**Disc**.- I don't own Harry Potter!

**This Story...**- So, the summary said it pretty nicely. This does not take the epilogue-kids into account because- well, I didn't like it. So none of the children are canon. Ron and Hermione's daughter- Annalee, Ginny's son- Prosper, Dean's son- Ariel, Zabini's daughter- Peony, Malfoy's daughter- Cassiopeia.

**XXXXXXXX**

Ron sighed deeply, holding Hermione closely. "Was it right, Ron?", she whispered, turning to press her face into his shoulder. He dragged his fingers through her frizzy locks.

"Harry will protect her. And when everything is over...We'll be together again.", he smiled down at her, pulling her up for a gentle kiss. She sniffled, tucking herself into his embrace. "Anna will be fine...", though he worried about his bestmate. He'd been becoming more and more despondent. The most emotion he'd shown recently was awed joy when they named him godfather of their child. Otherwise, it was all grave alertness and solemnity. So when he told them that he was leaving Britain, and subsequently the war after telling them all he knew about it- including the horcruxes- they'd decided it would be best if he took little Annalee. For her safety and his. And it would give him a reason to come back after the war.

Even if it was to their graves.

xXx

Ginny bit her nails, taking deep shuddering breaths. It wasn't that she- _hated_ the child, she wouldn't have gone through with the pregnancy if that were the case but he looked- there was almost no way-

Harry was the only one she'd told. Both about what happened and the resulting pregnancy. The child had the Weasley complexion, she could already tell, but the tuft of black hair and the nose different from her own or her brothers almost made her retch. If only it'd been born with red hair- maybe then she wouldn't shy away from the mere thought of-

It'd be safer with Harry. She knew he was already taking Ron and Hermione's and Dean's too, though she was sure that her brother and his fiance didn't know about the dark-skinned Gryffindor. But Harry had told her. Her ex-boyfriend had apparently been with an older Ravenclaw girl, wouldn't say who. Then he was suddenly laden down with a baby when she was pulled out of Hogwarts. And there was no way Dean was going to raise a baby by himself when he was in the midst of a war. So Harry took over care of that baby too. That made three. She took another deep breath, worrying over the young man she'd come to see as her confidant and one of her closest friends.

xXx

Lady Vittoria Zabini looked out at the vineyard below, her main hobby and pastime as her most recent husband, a handsome young Frenchman, pressed soft, teasing little kisses up her neck.

"What are you thinking, mon biche?", he murmured with a smile. She glanced at him with golden-hazel eyes, her mocha skin smooth and satin to the touch. Beauty favored her through age, her charms and suave unbroken.

"Nothing, bello mio.", she told him with a purr, skipping her fingers lightly across his bare shoulders. A sudden rap at the door made the two pause. On of the ornate double-doors opened to reveal her only darling child, Blaise. His eyes mirrored her own, and he was just as handsome as she was beautiful.

"Mother."

"Yes, dolce coure?", she turned, her hubby taking the hint somewhat sulkily as he slid away to the baths. Blaise watched him through narrowed eyes until he was sure the man was gone.

"Had there been any...Guests, recently?"

"Oh? Have you invited your English friends?", she inquired politely, turning back to survey her gardens, feeling the slight breeze play with the spider-silk house-robe she was wearing.

"No, mother. Has there been no one?"

"None for you, m'dear.", she teased playfully but he didn't soften. She knew her son was often as refined and smooth as she was, but he was really quite cold. _'All the more reason to keep her from him.'_, she thought gravely. His eyes narrowed again, she could feel it, but she remained impassive. Her granddaughter would _not_ be left with him if she could help it. Besides, from what she could gather (which was quite a lot), Potter was already taking in other babes before he left Britain and her son would never suspect she'd had contact with the little English boy. He knew she had no love for England or its Ministry.

xXx

Pansy sniffled, wiping her eyes. She still couldn't believe Draco had done that to her. _Her_, she who loved him since they were children. When he'd made the announcement, quite blithely, that he was contracted to Astoria Greengrass, he'd broken many hearts. Hers being one of them. He'd apparently known since he was twelve. But Draco had done more than simply stealing hearts- he stole into beds just as much. And she was so ashamed that she gladly invited him to hers. That she had become pregnant was nothing. She didn't tell him, no, but she couldn't keep it either. She was unwed- and no one would want a contract with her if they learnt she had already had a child. Not to mention how her family would respond. She was only lucky that no one had caught on or asked about the glamors she used, most simply assuming she was gaining a bit of weight with the news of Draco's contract and that she was trying to cover it up.

So, she gave the tiny thing to Potter. She kept her ears close to the ground, heard everything in the grapevine there was to hear. Including that he may or may not be leaving Britain soon with his goddaughter. An Oath later, and her own daughter was gone. She didn't like Potter- didn't think he was very smart or responsible, but she knew he'd protect children with the best he had.

And the best he had was _helluva_ lot more than she could get from anyone else.

xXx

He hummed gently, staring into the vial boredly. Before tipping it back and barely gagging on the foul taste. The five babes were safe and sound asleep, a bit of honey in their dinner making them even sleepier and less likely to fuss. He fell back on his small bed with a sigh. By morning he would be a she. It would certainly make hiding easier- even if the potion was kind of illegal. Hermione was such a good friend. He turned his head, looking at the transfigured cribs. Five of them. He now had five children. Four of them unnamed. He sighed, running a hand down his face. Well they'd need names, of course.

"Dobby!", he called and the little excitable elf popped in quietly, well aware that his idol had more volatile company. "I have five babies.", and oh, didn't that feel odd to hear from his own mouth? "Four of those babies don't have names. Any suggestions?", he turned to look at the elf that was practically vibrating and staring at him in awe.

"Harry Potters sirs is asking Dobby? Oh, Dobby will not let Mr. Harry Potter sir down!", he whispered excitedly, cracking gently away and leaving the sixteen year-old confused. He came back not a minute later, several very large looking books tumbling next to Harry on the small bed. He startled, leaning closer to read the titles. They were baby naming books. Mostly Pureblood.

"Oh, wow...", his eyebrows rose as Dobby smiled at him proudly. "Well then. Care to help me find some names?"

He needed one for himself too. He already had a surname- a line related loosely to the Potters, and his accounts were already transferred to their Vaults. It was an estranged line, and the last ones had died some time ago, but closely enough that his new female self could be their daughter and isolated enough for her to claim it without too much suspicion. But he needed a first and middle name. He'd prefer it be a flower name.

Soon they were hunched over, murmuring names back and forth, Harry occasionally getting up to check on the children and shift them if they looked uncomfortable. They were writing potential names down on a parchment.

"Oi, d'you think we should name Malfoy's kid in the Black family tradition?", he wasn't saying it for the blond prat's sake- he said it for Sirius. Dobby blinked his wide green eyes back at him before grinning, pulling another book closer and flipping through quickly to find his page before showing it to the boy. He squinted at the page before smiling at the elf. "Lovely!", he scribbled a few down.

xXx

Witch and elf stood contemplating the babies. Three were feasting on milk, one was napping again and the other was occupied with a dummy in his pram. When she'd woken that morning, she expected the slight dizziness, aching and disorientation, and she was still dressed in baggy clothes. She might've been a mite more preoccupied with her own changes and body had she not had more important things to take care of. She picked up one of the parchments. "Right. Let's start with...", she eyed the children, "That one!", she pointed to the dark-skinned little boy, Dean's son.

Dobby nodded, determined.

The duo stepped closer, peering down at the baby that looked up at them from where he was sucking on down his breakfast hungrily. "Sebastian?", she asked, reaching down with nimble fingers to stroke one finger down a chubby little cheek. He was almost five months old, the second oldest of the tiny little babes, with her godchild as oldest at seven months. Dobby made a face a the suggested name and she nodded. "Yeah, didn't feel right. Charles? Nathaniel? James? Jaime? No no, those aren't right...", the two exchanged a glance before looking again at their list of names, glancing every so often at the other little bodies to make sure they were occupied and taking a break to begin burping. Thank goodness Hermione had forced those parenting books on her- Charms for the New Parents, Magical Care for A Magical Baby, and the ever fun Practical Charms and Potions Baby Edition. No need for her to manually change nappies that way, or for her to worry about baby-barf stains. Alongside a host of other things to ease the way.

"Zane?"

"Zane? Nuh-uh.", she shook her head skeptically. "What else do we have?", she asked as she gently bounced her giggly goddaughter on one hip.

"Porter, Mathias, Virgil, Francis, Caelum, Ariel-"

"Wait! Ariel? Ariel...Ariel, Ariel, Ariel,", she tasted thoughtfully, setting the redhead little girl back into her cot to pick up Dean's boy. "Ariel.", she said sternly and watched the baby kick with a loud, cute giggle. She smiled, holding him closer. "I think we found his name. And his middle name will be..."

"Jaime?", she clicked her fingers with a grin, pointing at him.

"Yes! Perfect! Alright, one name down, three to go.", as all of them would be sharing her new surname.

xXx

The other three names varied in difficulty. Parkinson's daughter (it was easier to think of the little girl as Parkinson's, even with the platinum blond wisps of hair) was pretty easy for example- Cassiopeia Evette. Ginny's son was a bit more difficult, taking almost two days to settle on Prosper Blythe before finally moving onto the girl given to her by the Lady Zabini. But it was eventually settled- Peony Euphemia. She rather liked that name- it sounded so pretty and perfect for a girl. Dainty.

A hefty sum to the Goblins that barely made a dent in the heavy gold she owned, a spot or two of blood and some strong glory-flinging (Goblins loved themselves a gloriously dangerous tale and she had plenty- the Council she had seen had particularly enjoyed the Basilisk fight from her shared memories) ensured that Lady Lily Miriam Zephyrus was legal guardian and mother to Annalee, Ariel, Peony, Cassiopeia and Prosper Zephyrus. Not by birth, maybe, but by magic and law. She sighed deeply after she got home from _that_ particular meeting. She peeled off the highly formal robes she had just bought earlier for the event, sending the rest of her new female robes and assorted clothing essentials home with Dobby. But her day wasn't up. They needed to get out of England, get to the Zephyrus Chateau and then she needed to go through dozens and dozens of catalogs, ordering new things for the whole of their new little family- which she'll have help with from Dobby and several other elves she learned were in the Potter name. She was glad she had collected the trunks from her Vaults, along with a number of other useful things. She had a very busy day, and she had a feeling that it would be like that for a very long time.

xXx

"Mumma! Mumma look!", the green eyed young woman turned to see the chocolate complexioned little girl skip closer, a bright smile on her pretty little face and cupping her hands together. She opened the pocket she made and the woman smiled fondly. Peony had been helping her in the personal gardens (the formal ones sprawling the grounds tended to fiercely by the elves) for years now and had her own little spot where she grew lilies. She had brought one of the flowers over to her.

"Is that for me, little flower?", she teased, running her fingers through the girl's thick curls affectionately. The girl nodded shyly. Out of all five of her children, Peony was definitely the one who stayed closest. Mummy's little flower. "It's beautiful,", she nuzzled noses with the five year-old as she giggled, honey-gold eyes loving. She took the flower gently, a preservation charm soon keeping it pristine. She kept all the flowers her children gave to her, and had a separate vase for each child. Peony's was near overflowing by now. She pressed a kiss against her temple, hugging her gently. "Well, it's about lunch time, and I'm sure your brothers and sisters are waiting.", she stood, brushing off the casual summer dress she wore. France had beautiful climates, and she was glad to have chosen this particular estate to stay in. Though it had more to do with the Unplottable aspects and hidden hiding places than anything. France was firmly not part of the war going on, though took in plenty of refugees before shutting down the Magical immigrant system from Britain and the surrounding area.

She sighed breezily, shoving it from her mind. She knew, before she left, her friends were worried about her increasing apathy and desolation. She could still be rather distant at times, but the kids rambunctious energy usually pulled her from it. She slipped her hand over the small trusting one, leading her back into the large winding chateau.

xXx

The elegant, lovely Lady Zephyrus was well liked by the community, a small little village in the country side of mostly Purebloods and Halfbloods. She was a small, slim woman with who wore muggle dresses and with delicate pretty collarbones and a pretty neck. She had lightly tanned skin, from working in her gardens, residents well knew, and kind green eyes, even if they could be a bit vacant sometimes. She was lofty and generous, patient. And she took care of five children. Sometimes, when the illustrious Lady would decide to go out with them, they would get to see the loving interaction between them, mother and her children. Of course people wondered about where they all came from, but most assumed she took in a few orphans- after all, they'd all heard how the poor thing was stuck in some muggle orphanage in England when her parents were killed in a skirmish during their brief stay and only just found her way home.

Yes, the folks of Pavot, a small muggle-free place known for their poppies, weren't too fond of the English.

But they were an easygoing village, honest and simple enough and accepted Lady Zephyrus kindly, if not warmly. That she insisted on buying from their shops in large quantities and kept them prosperous may have helped.

It was a warm day, sunny and beautiful and perfect, with fluffy clouds and a gentle breeze that everyone enjoyed, and one of the best days for the Zephyrus family to come down. The cheerful play of children soon drew other village children to play as the beautiful fae-like Lily smiled down as they played childish, fun games. Her dress was long and light, the thin straps made of lace and she wore a large floppy hat with a ribbon in a soft yellow color that matched her dress.

"_Madam!"_, the call made her look to see an older woman waving at her. She raised her hand, going closer. The children would be fine left alone here.

Lily liked it here- this was her home. These people were her friends and neighbors, even if she lived a bit off from the village itself. Not even a hundred people lived in her little sanctuary. She had pointless, cheerful chitchat, she knew who Silvia Adelard's son was marrying, knew when Claude Galehot's youngest will be born, that little Abelle Eudo would be getting a new tutor because no one really left the community come the next year instead of going to a school. It was nice. It was domestic. It was peaceful.

That wasn't to say she had forgotten about what she'd gone through, her training that she kept up, her immaculate dueling skills. She remembered, and she worked hard, but she relaxed and enjoyed just as much. She raised her children. She occasionally sent letters through Gringotts when Ron or Hermione could manage to get to the bank. Sometimes, she would feel guilt eat at her. She'd feel like a coward. A weakling. But her friends never thought her such, and she had a purpose- protect her sweet children. It wasn't just about her, she'd remind herself. She didn't simply flounce off to simply spend the rest of her life doing whatever she pleased, living her life lavishly.

She still kept up with the war. Indeed, Europe as a whole always had something to say about it, even if it was just a little side story- they'd tell the truth while rags like The Prophet were Ministry controlled. Some of it made her feel sick, the new 'regulations' and laws being passed. But then Dobby or Hinki would pop in to tell her about one of the kids doing something.

Soon enough midday was approaching and there was a small festival- simply because they could have one. It happened almost every month or so and it felt so wonderful being part of it all. Playing and games and drinks, and laughter, so much of it. When people finally began heading home, rays of the sun began to come once again.

xXx

"_Muuuuum!"_, Ariel whined, "Lee took my sugar-quills again!"

"I did not!", the ginger shouted from the hall, coming in after the boy and sending him a dark glare. Lily smiled down at them amusedly. Annalee and Ariel were the two who quarreled the most, mostly filching things from one another and mini-attacks and pranks. Lee's sweet doe-brown eyes, just like Hermione's, looked up at her pleadingly. "Mum, I didn't! Really!"

"Of course, bombarda.", as she was fond of calling the little firecracker. She had her father's quick temper, with her mother's ability to hold a grudge, and her Aunt Gin's vicious streak. But then, Ariel was the prankster, often getting Prosper to help along- the two were thick as thieves and a lot like Fred and George. Speaking of the freckled black-haired boy, she wondered where he was. Where one was, the other usually wasn't far behind.

"What's all this, then?", as though beckoned by thought alone, Prosper peeked in with bright blue eyes.

"She stole my sugar-quills!", the curly-haired boy pointed accusingly at the redhead who was stubbornly holding onto their mother's dress. Lily was busy petting through the girl's frizzy red ringlets as she sniffled angrily. His spiky-haired brother and bestfriend laughed and went inside with them, plopping himself on one of the many mismatched but ridiculously comfortable couches. This was the lounge room- not the formal one, no, that one was fancy and strictly for visitors- this was the casual room.

"No she didn't, Cassie did.", Ariel gasped, dark eyes widening. Lee's eyes glared fiery hate at him.

"See!? I _told_ you I didn't do it!", she spit and he sent her a sheepish look. Lily sighed, sitting back down as Lily climbed up to curl into her side petulantly.

"Oops.", he offered before running off with Prosper to find their blonde sister. Cassie was definitely the most competitive out of the five of them and when paired off, usually went with Lee, just as Ariel went with Prosper and Peony stuck to her. Combine Cassie's competitive, in-your-face attitude and Lee's short fuse and sense of vengeance, those two weren't a team to cross. And with Ariel and Prosper, the two were sneaky and sly, kind of vindictive but not vicious like their two sisters could sometimes be. Peony was her sweet little flower though, the good girl. She was sweet and bright, loyal to the family as a whole. She glanced down at her goddaughter/daughter. Ron's sweet doe-shaped eyes with Hermione's warm color and her cute nose with her father's easy grin.

"Hey mum?", she blinked, looking down at her. "Can I have a pet?"

xXx

Draco sneered, glaring down at his once most devoted follower. Pansy stared back coldly. She had a contract to a handsome older man now and would be marrying in only two months. "Finally decide to look at the family tree?", she asked and almost physically felt the words stab into him, making him angrier. It pleased her in a grim way.

"What did you do with it?", he hissed, wand pressing up against her slender neck. "Its face is blurry and there's no name!"

"Looks like I left my child in the right hands then."

The twenty-five year old sneered darkly, getting closer and crowding her. "Parkinson.", he growled but his intimidation tactics had no effect as she easily pushed his looming frame away with a scowl of distaste.

"Summersby soon, Malfoy.", when in school, he'd been four years above her. He bared his teeth savagely. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a luncheon to plan with my mother-in-law.", she turned from him but his harsh grip on her arm made her whirl, landing a sharp, stinging slap on his porcelain pale face. He let go of her in shock and she sent him a malicious, feral look. "Stay away from me, and stay away from my daughter,", it was a dark snarl before she stalked off.

Draco stood silently for a few moments, silvery eyes gleaming. A daughter, was it?

xXx

Ron scrubbed his face quickly, glancing around shiftily. They- he, Hermione, Neville and Ginny, had been destroying horcruxes. They only needed Nagini dead and then they could kill the bastard and get their bestfriend and daughter back. Sometimes that was the only thing that kept him going. His daughter and his bestfriend. Sometimes he- or, _she_ wrote. She didn't write any names, and it was all in riddles, but she wrote. None of them knew where she was, but that was alright. Better, even, if one of them happened to get captured. Not if she chose a new name (which she most assuredly has), not if she changed her appearance (which was likely), nothing other than he is now a she and she moved away. For all they knew, she might be in the muggle world somewhere. Who knew? No one besides her.

He slipped back into the tent they had set up, ignoring the sight of his little sister cuddled up to Neville. He didn't think the two were really that into eachother- they were just available when no one else was. But Hermione told him to keep that tidbit to themselves- apparently blurting that out was socially unacceptable and they couldn't afford unnecessary tensions between them.

_Merlin_, how he wished Harry were here...

xXx

The Dark Lord was growing increasingly angry- which wasn't to say he _wasn't_ in his usual perpetual state of displeasure, just that he was becoming more manic. Harry Potter still remained elusive, the link he had discovered with the boy shielded fiercely now. He still attacked, and did so with lethal force but the barrier remained. Worse, his horcruxes were being hunted. He'd been searching for them only to find them gone. When he tried to feel them out, the only one that responded was Nagini and the faint feel of some other one. So he kept Nagini with him at all times. He snarled in the middle of one man's report, crucioing him until he stopped flailing and his voice went hoarse.

He'd been dwindling his number of followers that way, but what difference would it make? He'd already practically won the war- the Ministry was under Malfoy and therefore his control, Snape was Headmaster with his more trusted followers teaching the little brats and no one dared defy him now that the majority of the old man's little ragtag group were either dead, in hiding or simply bowed out of it, falling into the sea of sheep to avoid conflict with the growing number of Death Eaters. Soon he could begin moving onto the rest of Europe.

_But he needed Potter dead_.

And to do that, he needed him _found._

xXx

Dorian Summersby hummed as he watched his soon-to-be wife, sitting with his and her fathers. "She does have quite the venom for the Malfoy boy, doesn't she?", he asked passively. He'd known her to be clingy with the snot-nosed blond, and quite annoying at that. However, when he met her not two years ago, she was different. She was the picture of a Pureblood Lady- educated, well-mannered, elegant and a _fierce_ dueler.

"She was upset when the news of his contract came out.", her father told him blithely. "Her mother's fault- I had told her not to try and negotiate a contract with them. Never did like the prissy lot."

"Completely understandable. Nothing but cowards.", his father snorted. "Never took part in any of the dirty work.", he spoke mostly of Lucius, and his reputation as a Death Eater. Indeed, their families were deeply entrenched, but they pillaged and fought for their Lord- unlike Malfoy, who sat and looked pretty. "And the Lady of the line! 'Tis a shame Andromeda had married that muggleborn, since Narcissa was such a disappointment. She was the one originally set to marry the blond prat."

"Would've done his family good to have her- Abraxas was disgusted when he was given instead Narcissa for his son."

Dorian listened halfheartedly. Such gossips, their parents were. His mother and Lady Parkinson were with his younger bride across the way, in their line of sight but just barely. Despite himself, he was looking forward to consummating their contract- Pansy was a fairly pretty young woman with her mother's petite frame and really the only thing that seemed slightly out of place was her slightly blunt nose. But even that looked sort of...Cute. He wondered idly if he was falling in love with her. He shrugged to himself. No matter- they would be married soon and if it was love he felt for her, so be it. He knew her favorite designer, her favorite dessert, her most hidden pet peeve, the difference between her polite smile and her courteous smile, and her somewhat dark sense of humor that she rarely let out.

"Your daughter is quite charming.", he told her father abruptly. The two men blinked at his seemingly random statement but her father chuckled heartily.

"Yes, though few are around to see it.", he told him in amusement. He leaned back then. "You know, she once mentioned that she had a civil conversation with the Potter boy.", he told him musingly.

"As I recall, she despised that boy.", Dorian knew his eyebrows had climbed up as he said it.

"Indeed she did, as only schoolmates can. Though this apparent conversation happened after the news of the Greengrass' arrangement. Hmph. I heard Daphne, the bride's older sister, threatened to split from the family after the news, she hated the Malfoys so much.", back to gossip then. Dorian resolved to ask about her talk with Harry Potter. What would Pansy Parkinson have to talk about with Potter? Their mutual hatred of the Malfoys?

It might be fun to talk about- especially if her ire is stroked (which it almost always is when talking about the Malfoy son). He loved to see her dark eyes flash and the way her lips moved into a scowl. He felt dreamy just thinking about it.

He smiled languidly. Pansy would be a fine mother and a wondrous wife.

xXx

The weary man sighed deeply, amber eyes hooded as he stared down at his hands.

Remus wished he would've given Nymphadora a chance, those few years ago- maybe he would've grown to love her like she did him. Hell, maybe they would've started a family by now. She was a bright, vivacious woman who made her intent with him known. But he let his selfishness get in the way of that- trying to justify his distance with things that he knew didn't matter, purposely trying to scare her off, just to see if she would indeed scamper off and leave him. And then when she proved that she _would not_ be deterred, he'd ran away with his tail between his legs.

Remus wished he would've interacted with Harry more- especially when Sirius died. He'd been so wrapped in his own grief, and he stayed away from the boy. Because he knew some part of him blamed the boy, and the sight of him made him want to throttle him. And he knew Sirius would never forgive him if he ever knew about that. He himself was ashamed once he finally managed to resurface. Now Harry was gone. His friends wouldn't tell him anything aside from he was well and away from this war. He wished he would've been able to say goodbye at least. To hug him.

Remus wished he would've been there for Sirius when he was imprisoned- at least asked about a fair trial. Instead he cast him out, even though he knew Peter was acting strange and had sent him an ominous, scattered letter about the Potters and an upcoming funeral or three. In hindsight, it was obvious, but with the war going on, he hadn't batted a lash at deaths. Merlin, he was awful.

There were many things Remus wished. And more he regretted. He sighed again, looking at the letter sitting unopened on his coffee table. It read Nymphadora Tonks in shiny pink- out of place in his shabby little apartment. He'd ignored all of her previous letters. But he was tired of constantly running and hiding and evading everything that made him nervous.

He picked it up.

xXx

Prosper knew his mum wasn't _really_ his mum. Or any of their mum. They all knew that. She didn't need to tell them. But she was his mum in all the ways that mattered. So when one of the boys down in the village said something about her, was it really his fault they got into a fight? No, no it was not. But mum frowned when he explained his noble, gentlemanly actions. He was merely protecting mum's honor. The other boy got a fierce scolding (he and Ariel snickered at it, it was public humiliation for the boy), but their mum's persistent frown when they went home made him fidgety.

"Alright, go play now. Prosper and I are going to have a talk.", he glared when his sisters giggled. When they were gone, she knelt down, holding his hands gently. "Prosper.", she said softly.

"Yes, mum?", his voice was just as quiet and brimming with nervousness. The ten year-old was worried about what she would say, if he would get in trouble. Maybe hitting the boy with that hex wasn't the best course of action...

"As gallant your reasons, you shouldn't have started a fight about it.", she chided him and she was so very soft and nice about it that it just made him feel guilty. They almost never got in trouble- the fear of their mother's displeasure or _worse_- her disappointment- a good motive to behave. She let them have their prank-wars and retaliations, but that was all in good play and fun- even if a few painful hexes and jinxes were involved. Mostly on Lee and Cassie's side. He knew she got exasperated sometimes, but usually she was amused by their rivalry. She pulled him back to the current gently. Always gently. And if gentleness didn't work, then she'd hunker down and take away privileges, their tantrums and screaming easily tolerated and ignored. "Prosper, pay attention.", she frowned at him and he winced.

"Sorry, mum."

"Right.", she nodded, "No more toys for the rest of the week. You'll be helping Peony and me in the garden instead.", he opened his mouth to argue, but she silenced him with a look. "What have I told you before about your temper?"

Compared to Lee and Cassie, his own hotheadedness was often forgotten. He was a bit more difficult to rile, but he had certain lines. And insulting his mother was one of the worst to cross. While Cassie could volley back a worse insult, or Lee could simply snub them, choosing to ignore whoever it was, Ariel could grin and go on a 'Your mother...' binge, and Peony simply cried (both confusing the berk and attracting the attention of adults), Prosper's first instinct was to hurt whoever it was. As much as possible before they were interrupted.

"Prosper.", this time his name was tinged with exasperation. He looked up at her. He also had the tendency to drift off a bit. As she was well aware.

"That I should think about what you would do if someone insulted you."

And he'd only ever seen her insulted once, and that was when he was hiding and some man had tried to flirt with her. She rejected his advances and he called her foul things. She simply waited until he was done until asking, quite calmly, _"Feel better?" _before giving him the stare only a stern mother has. Her eyes sort of glowed though and there was something hidden that cowed the man into spitting out one more hasty insult before turning tail.

"Yes.", she said, pulling his head up to lock their gazes. She smiled at him. "Sweet as it was of you.", she teased and he felt a hesitant smile tilt his lips. "Now, go clean up. The tutors will be coming soon."

He groaned at that. They'd had tutors since they were seven, and they were often hard taskmasters- though when they'd complained and she'd taken over, they quickly retracted their whining, learning their mum could be a very demanding professor. He thinks she did it on purpose and her sweet smiles when he'd accused her of it only made him more sure of it.

xXx

She tilted her head, sighing gustily as she heard satisfying cracks and doing the same with the other side. Gardening took more out of her than it did as a child...Though that cold be because her new garden was so much bigger- and magical. She smiled, leaning back to sit on her heels as she looked up at the sky. It would likely rain soon. She stood up. "Peony, Prosper! C'mon. We're done for the day.", she called, a smile lighting up her face as two more little faces came up from different flower bushes.

So cute.

**XXXXXXXX**

So this is...Yeah, this is this. Not sure how else I should describe it. Do you like it? Because if you do...

REVIEW!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disc.**- Hun, I still don't own Harry Potter. Never will.

**This Story...**- Malfoy is aware he has a daughter somewhere. _And_ we find out who impregnated Ginny. There's a time-skip. Two of them actually. AND THEN! They infiltrate the Manor! Because clearly, they couldn't afford to have others go in, get killed and then have the family flee and restart their search. Oh, and just pretend that in Pavot, everything is in French. Because I'm lazy.

**XXXXXXXX**

When Malfoy had come to him for information, Romeo Rosier had humored the other man. He was therefore somewhat unamused when his many connections had almost no word on the news aside from Pansy Parkinson and occasionally the name Harry. Romeo could only assume they meant Potter and while he relayed that information to the little pillock, he'd been a bit curious. His father allowed him his little mystery, only because he was skeptical that Potter had anything to do with Parkinson and that it was some hoax meant to catch the Dark Lord's attention. So Evan Rosier had given his son all the information they had gotten about Potter in the last few years since his mysterious disappearance.

After all, what could his son find that the other Death Eaters could not? When, however, coupled with the few rumors floating about the younger generation, Romeo felt like he might have gotten a bit more than the others. When asking about Parkinson and an illegitimate child, a few other names would come up. Including one Ginevra Weasley- and wasn't he surprised about that? The feisty little redhead he'd had his way with had been one of the infamous Weasleys. A name in direct connection with Potter's. Through a few galleons and whispers in the right ears, he got medical records of the girl. There wasn't much, of course, but there was one peculiar visit she had taken with Potter present. He flipped through the page curiously. The Mediwizard had documented everything about the encounter, as was procedure, but it went a bit...Oddly after a certain point. As though tampered with. Naturally, the black haired young man was fascinated. There was no way Potter or the Weasley had any experience with memory charms. Surely not. When Romeo had gotten the records from his father, he'd been privy to Potter's grades. While he was okay with charms, he wasn't nearly proficient enough to be using something like that. And the ginger had been awful with charms and the like; hexes and jinxes she worked well with, but anything too complex is lost on her.

He'd tracked down the Mediwizard and sedated him with veritaserum. When his story collaborated with his report, the twenty-nine year-old narrowed his eyes, forcefully ripping into the man's mind. The memory he saw featured a nervous, distraught girl and a solemn but worried Potter. Things went fairly well at first, jittery and nervous, but normal enough. It was when the man began using the diagnostic spells that things began to become almost two-dimensional in comparison to the way it was before. It was definitely a memory charm. He sighed, slipping from the ravaged mind of the older man. He was drooling, staring at nothing while his hands twitched, and he had evidently soiled himself. Romeo sneered, piercing blue eyes disgusted as he cast a quick slashing hex at the man's throat before banishing the body and neatly cleaning the scene of his little visit.

He went back to asking about illegitimate children and Weasleys and Parkinsons. Names began to come together over the next few years.

xXx

Blaise had been comfortably lounging outside until a man he recognized as Evan Rosier's son had requested his presence. He was also apparently accompanied by Malfoy. Blaise sneered, sitting up and snapping at the elf for a robe, which was hurriedly brought. He shrugged the designer wear on, scowling as he padded barefoot into the foyer, the marble cool against his toes.

"Gentleman. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Zabini. Tell me, did you know your mother made a visit to Potter almost fourteen years ago?", Rosier was immediately to the point and Blaise paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes. "Around the same time that Pansy Parkinson did?"

Blaise had, of course, heard through the grapevine that Pansy- now Summersby- had conceived the Malfoy's child. He'd laughed when he'd heard about it, even more when combined that Pansy was to be wed to Summersby soon after Draco had found out. "My mother wouldn't dally with Englishmen.", he told the two men slowly. Beside the black-haired man, Malfoy narrowed pale eyes.

"Pansy wouldn't _dally_ with Potter either! The mudblood Thomas had chucked a babe with him, too, as did the Weasleys.", he snapped broodily. Blaise offered him a cold stare.

"And just what,", his voice was low and _just_ brushing threatening. "Are you trying to say, hm?"

"That _Potter_ has your child! Just as he has _ours_."

At this Blaise's eyebrows rose, just a little. "Potter was _collecting_ infants?"

"That's not the problem here.", Malfoy glowered. _"__I_ need to find my spawn."

"Oh? Are the Greengrasses still pushing the contract?", Blaise asked idly. He knew the other boy had been trying to avoid being tied down with a wife, not the sort of be monogamous, and sadly, the Greengrasses are known for contracts involving fidelity spells and oaths.

"They want to _see_ the child before they let go.", the blond grumbled. Blaise already knew they wanted his help in finding Potter. He also knew that they must not have told their Voldemort anything about their little chase, otherwise they wouldn't be contacting him. In fact, alongside Potter the children would probably be killed as well. Their savagery was one of the reasons Blaise claimed neutrality favoring Dark instead of outright Dark. While he was fine with killing, he preferred it to be neat and orderly. Something rarely found at the infamous Death Eater revels.

"Are you completely uninterested? In finding Potter, and in turn your child?", Rosier asked him, too sharp blue eyes watching him intently. Blaise narrowed honey-colored eyes back at him.

"What _should_ I care? I do not know the child, have never seen it, why should I want to _find_ it and saddle myself with it?"

"Should be around thirteen or fourteen by now.", Rosier pointed out. Malfoy made an exasperated sound.

"For fuck's sake Zabini! I'll bloody _pay_ you to aid us in finding Potter!", this got the Italian's attention. He'd always been a rather greedy man...Something few knew- but Malfoy did. Rosier looked unimpressed with the reason with his sudden interest, but said nothing.

Blaise wasn't interested in seeing his spawn. But he rarely turned away the chance for both monetary gain _and_ amusement. Both of which he was being offered. He grinned at them charmingly.

"Gentlemen, why don't we discuss this little..._Rescue_ mission inside over some Vindemiatrix, hm?"

xXx

Cassiopeia was, at present, chatting her mum's ear off as she manually painted the woman's neat, pretty nails black to match her own. Cassie knew that she wasn't the most well-mannered, or the most well behaved, but her family loved her and her mum always listened with full attention, never missing even one word. Her brothers and sisters were all still in their lessons, Cassie having advanced enough in her studies that she was given the rest of the day off from her studies.

"-and then when I was reading about the newest potions for Vampire conception- and who thought of that anyways? Wouldn't that just make a surplus of vampires?- Bijou started heckling me and almost tore the pages from the book! I love the Niffler, I really do, she's my little doll, but she's terribly needy sometimes! So after I finally managed-", she went on about her day as mum smiled at her fondly, her green as anything eyes (Cassiopeia wished she had eyes like her, but her eyes were dark charcoal gray instead) fond and affectionate as she listened to her rant and rave and babble. The blonde loved it when she was the center of mum's gentle attention- she was a very combative girl, and a sore loser to boot. The fourteen year-old tossed her long blonde braid over her shoulder- the black-haired woman had taught her the charm to fix her long locks into a French braid, which the little girl had perfected quite nicely. She hummed as she cast a quick charm to dry the nails and then grabbing another little bottle. Light pink sparkles- in the shape of tiny hearts, soon glazed over the black. Cassie couldn't really imagining black polish suiting her without some lighter, more feminine color or sparkles or something.

"It's beautiful, cygnet.", her sweet, small smile was given to the teen and Cassie beamed up at her brilliantly. She loved it when the woman called her that, never got tired of it. No one else was allowed to call her anything but Cassie or Cass. Her full name was reserved for the tutors and her mother, and _only_ her mother was allowed to give her pet names. She'd hex anyone else into oblivion. Her mum was the most important figure in her life.

Cassie knew that if she really wanted to, she could ask who had conceived her. But she'd seen the way her mother would look when she read all of those newspapers of hers. Always Britain. She also knew that her mum's name wasn't really Lily, and she wasn't the Zephyrus daughter- though she was related to the line.

Cassie never saw the need to have anyone outside of her family. Everyone else could rot for all she cared. That included whoever birthed her, and whoever had given the seed.

Cassie smiled, leaning forward to hug her mum. She was a small woman, and by now the teen was almost taller than her, just a few inches away. All three girls were around her height and the boys were slowly getting there. Mum had told them years ago that the girls will grow before the boys- which she and Lee had used to mercilessly taunt them until they learnt exactly what puberty entailed. Cramps and bloating and uncomfortable bleeding in a _very_ uncomfortable place. Not to mention the emotional swings and the needy cravings. Mum had given them potions for the majority of it, but it still ached a little around _that_ _time_. She shook the thoughts away, standing to stretch her back. While she wasn't as flexible as Prosper, _let alone_ their lithe, bendy mother, she was better than Lee and Peony.

Several satisfying cracks and pops later and she smiled at her mum.

"What should we do, then?", she asked and the teen grinned at her.

"Flying?"

Something her mother excelled at (then again, mum excelled at _everything-_ though chess seemed lost on her). She, Ariel and Lee loved flying just as much as mum did. Prosper and Peony, on the other hand...

Well. There was a reason they stayed away from the brooms. Prosper went green watching them up in the air, no matter how safe they were, as their mum would never let anything happen to them. Peony was just meant to stay _firmly_ on land. She wobbled and teetered and had no confidence in flying. Bringing herself back, she took her mother's offered hand. Something that the Zephyrus children took no shame in doing was holding her hand like children. To reject their mother's hand was almost absurd.

xXx

Ariel was bored out of his mind, and he knew the know-it-all Cassie got out of her lessons early, so she was probably playing with mum. _Unfair_. He wasn't even sure why he _needed_ to know about muggle history. Seemed like a waste of time to him. He wasn't a muggle, he wasn't planning on going muggle-seeing, and he would never be leaving the magical world for the muggle. It was an unnecessary subject. He sighed, completely blocking out his tutor. Cassie was ahead in almost_ all_ of her classes, only back with them in Herbology and Magical Creatures. Ariel huffed, narrowing dark eyes and peeking out the window. He wanted to be outside. He could be forced to help mum in her gardens for all he cared, but to just be _outside!_

A sharp rap made him snap back to attention, his tutor glaring at him harshly. He sighed, sulkily turning his attention back to them. He tapped chocolate-colored hands against the student desk, leaning back in the soft cushioned chair and knowing that if his etiquette professor were there, he'd be utterly scandalized. That man was such a prude, no fun at _all_. He wondered how Prosper was fairing in his class. None of them held classes together, too easily distracted by their siblings. And while he was sure it helped Lee and 'Per (those two needed quiet to really focus, as they tend to wander), Ariel was too easily bored to have absolutely no reprieve. It didn't diminish his intelligence or grades, no, but it really wound him up when he was once more reunited with his brother and his sisters. He nearly slumped over his desk. Ariel, when bored, often sought out simple pleasures that would insure that he wouldn't do anything too rash, like break a window with his shoe or charm the board his teacher was using to spit harsh insults at the man about his intelligence.

Because those things _had_ happened before. His mother had been both amused and very disappointed- which made him both ashamed and proud. He glanced out the window again and almost did a double-take. No, no, he definitely saw it.

_Bloody hell,_ no fair, no fair _no fair!_ They were _flying!_

He glared out at them sulkily. He _loved_ flying. And yet, here he was, stuck with some stuffy old professor while their mother and Cass were out there flying! He turned his petulant gaze back onto the parchment in front of him.

xXx

Peony hummed as she read through her textbooks diligently. She was determined to make mother proud, and she took her education very seriously. While she wasn't quite as advanced as Cassie, she did do exceptionally well in transfigurations and herbology (which was only to be expected). Though her charms work could be a little better, and her arithmancy was just a little off, she worked harder in those subjects to make up for it. She was absolutely determined to keep her place as the closest to their mother, and while that might have sounded rather selfish, Peony couldn't be bothered. She loved and adored her family, but mum was her main concern. With that in mind, when the day ended, she immediately went off in search of the woman. They had lessons everyday except Saturday, and their days lasted from six in the morning to four in the afternoon on most days. There were occasions they were let out earlier or later, but for the most part it was an easy schedule, if not a little tiring.

She peeked outside, scanning about and heard a jubilant shout from above. Her eyes immediately tracked it and she felt the blood rush from her face as she saw Cassie, Ariel, Lee and mum up in the air. She shuddered, not trusting the brooms to keep them suspended up in the air. It was an awfully long way to the ground, after all...

xXx

Ginny screamed as she watched the Death-Eaters gut Dean Thomas, her once-boyfriend. Blood bubbled from his lips and his eyes glazed over in pain before he was literally torn in half, his upper body still hanging from chains in the dungeon. Ginny sobbed uncontrollably, blubbering and almost blinded by her tears as her body tried once more to purge anything from her stomach, leading to painful dry-heaving.

"What do you plan on doing with your spawn anyways?"

"Killing it, of course. It's a bastard child.", she barely heard those cold words over her body trying to reject everything. "And what about yours, Malfoy?"

"I'll need to keep it alive until I decide to go into a contract.", the other man said blithely. "Zabini?"

"I don't care what is done with the child. Will you be giving Potter over to Voldemort?"

"Of course."

"Mm. Mind if I have a bit of fun with him first?"

"He's our Lord's, no one is to put so much as a scratch on him."

"I wouldn't hurt him. It's been a fantasy of mine to have the Boy-Who-Lived under me, not to torture him.", he chuckled.

"...You're _disgusting_, Zabini."

xXx

Voldemort was not a patient man. Yet he was being, he felt, _remarkably_ patient regarding Potter and his elusive escape. He was also exceptionally patient regarding Dumbledore and his disappearance. Though the ring undoubtedly made sure he would die within the first year of his absence, so he was absolutely dead by now, and by one of his creations- and by extension, _he _killed Dumbledore. Nonetheless, that ring was a horcrux, and he could no longer feel it. He snarled angrily, stalking the Malfoy dungeons in search of someone to destroy to diminish some of the rage he felt.

He wanted Potter before him. He wanted to torture the child until he either begged for death or was no longer responsive. He wanted to destroy him mentally and kill him. He wanted to scar his body, wanted to disfigure it horribly before his death. Tarnish him. But at the moment, he had more things to think about than wasting every resource on a boy that, at the moment, wasn't a bother. From the rumors, even from all those years ago, he might've abandoned the war when he left, fled from it. It was generally accepted now, that he'd abandoned his friends to flee. Not that Voldemort would particularly blame the boy.

He'd had snippets of proper peace and rest where he could think clearly. They were ever-decreasing, of course, but he pushed such thoughts aside. When he thought a bit more deeply on their strange connection (he was so close to an answer he could _taste_ it), he became almost as calculating and impartial as he used to be. Back when nothing was tainted with rage and fury, his need for vengeance, which was really what made Voldemort. He did not, however, _regret_ anything he'd done in his rages. If those imbeciles wanted to challenge him, if they wanted to stop him, if they so much as argued, he'd killed or tortured them. Mostly killed- though some had reformed through torture. He passed a cell, stopping to glance back. The woman inside was shivering harshly, body dirty and grimy, covered in blood, dirt and other substances he found disgusting. If he recalled, however (which he did, as he knew who was in what cell, even if they were unimportant and beneath him), this was Lavender Brown. While her parents had joined him with only little _encouragement_, this young girl fought it. Not so much because of what she believed and stood for, as he had Light and Dark both following him freely, but because she didn't care for his Mark. What was once condemned and a sign of guilt in the reign of the Light was now a status symbol. A class all it's own, above the populace. And in that class were more complex tiers. And yet this girl didn't want it. Snapping that it would mar her flawless skin. Her parents had been terrified when she was taken and thrown in the dungeons, but also relieved that she wasn't tortured in front of them. Besides, Voldemort liked that when they were sent to the dungeons to deal with punishment, it only inspired more fear and dread than having to watch them rather than what the mind comes up with. He stepped into the cell. He hadn't yet punished her for her grave insult. He stepped in the cell.

xXx

After idly dealing with both the youngest Weasley and that mudblood Thomas, the three men blithely cleaned up and left the building, armed with new information but nothing of much importance. Of course they would give important information _not_ regarding to Potter to Voldemort (well, Rosier and Malfoy will), but they weren't much in the way of helping to find Potter.

"Weasley and Granger are too difficult to track and capture,", Blaise offered, ignoring the indignant Death Eaters (Voldemort often ranted about his numerous Death Eaters seeming inability to capture two _bumbling idiots, _one of which a _mudblood,_ who hadn't even managed to finish their schooling), "As is the case with the rest of the Light Weasleys and I doubt the two you have in service will know anything about it, so...What shall we do, gentlemen?"

"We could,", Rosier began, "Find those letters from Potter that Weasley chit wasn't allowed to see. From the post records."

"Too long."

"I've spent years on this Zabini.", Rosier narrowed his eyes haughtily.

"And look at how far you've gotten.", Blaise said with a nasty smile and Rosier's anger flared.

"I've managed to find out more than any of the others,", he hissed, "Who've worked much longer than I to try to find him!"

"Both of you! Shut up, won't you? We have better things to be doing than fighting amongst ourselves.", Draco intervened with an ugly scowl on his normally handsome (if pointy and pasty pale) face. The two glared at him, then at eachother before settling down. "Now. We need to think of something faster, hm?"

"I could,", Blaise began, staring at perfectly manicured nails, "Simply ask about five children of various traits traveling with one man. Or, even easier, use one of our blood samples to properly track them down."

"Do you think me a complete imbecile? We've _tried_ them already! And I doubt Potter is fool enough to"

"Maybe the second option, but my connections spread farther than yours.", he glanced fleetingly at his forearm.

"Do that in the meantime.", Draco commanded, turning to Rosier. "Until then, Rosier and I will be scouring the post records.", and by that, they both meant having a small legion of house elves do it to decrease the time and find more likely matches to what they wanted. Elf magics, as it were, were far more effective to sense magical signatures and differences and Potter had undoubtedly been using the goblins (blasted creatures they were). Blaise shrugged noncommittally, but he was getting paid, so...

xXx

(ANOTHER TIME SKIP- a year's difference)

Peony shivered, sitting up and frowning. Her door opened and she saw Lee and Cassie's wide eyes in the darkness. "Mum says to hide,", Lee murmured shakily, sneaking in as Cassie carefully shut the door, her long pale nightshirt drawing as much attention in the dark as her hair did, uncharacteristically down. Peony shoved herself out of bed, moving quickly with her sisters to the small spot under one of the end-tables in her room, decorated in lace with a vase of pretty flowers on it. She moved her wand in a special sequence, taught since she was very small to dissolve the wall to reveal a small crawl space. Peony went in easily enough- she was slim and petite like her mum (which she was still so proud about), though Lee had a bit more trouble. While she wasn't finished growing, the sixteen year-old would undoubtedly be more buxom. Cassie was willow enough but her height and long legs meant she was knocking into the small space painfully, as heard by the curses she let loose. The passage closed behind them, and they stumbled over their nightshirts sometimes, but they got to the safe room soon enough, transferred from the room they were into to another one where they met with the boys.

Far above them, in the manor, Lily Zephyrus became female Harry Potter, having quickly changed into protective dragonhide and basilisk skins. Her magic pooled around her defensively- not quite tamed and lashing out. She knew exactly where the intruders were, and knew exactly who they were. She would have to dispose of them- if not she would have to run and move to another life- and it would upset the children undoubtedly to go with that option. Much as she didn't like killing around the children, _let alone_ while they were on the same property, she would go through their minds first and see if it were an option to stay if they were gotten rid of. Three less bastards in the world. She moved in the shadows and through secret tunnels that even the children didn't know about. Pinpointing the men. They stayed together, which she found odd, but she didn't question it. She slid along, finding one of the many one-way walls. They were in plain room and she felt immediate anger and hatred at the sight, her lips curling up in a snarl and she almost let her control slip too much.

xXx

(A few weeks earlier)

Pavot was a very...Quaint place. However, long struggle and a few legal issues glossed over with galleons later and they were there- France had become almost hostile to England, Ireland and Scotland and no longer accepted _anyone_ from the places. But the goblins, while fiercely guarding Potter's secrets, were not so picky about who they helped for what price, and they were posing, under many different charms, as relatives of one of the villagers. They weren't entirely certain he was there, but grabbed a local anyways, being very careful about it all and in heavy disguise. Their process was just as delicate slipping into the woman's mind. However, nothing in the memories shown anything of use. So they grunted and tried another villager, then another and another and another, and so on. Nothing. Not a _fucking_ thing. There was no one around with five apparent children, no one who wasn't born and raised in Pavot and there seemed to be no tampering with the minds they entered either. So they began asking around, small light compulsion charms opening up otherwise distrustful villagers. It took them nearly three days to hear anything meaningful.

It was an older woman from the bakery who was visiting the keeper of the inn they were currently stationed in. She was chatting with him about something while Blaise was sitting in the open room they were in, idly reading a book and eavesdropping lazily.

"- oh, and have you heard? Lily's girl, you know, Annalee, she'll be turning sixteen soon?", at this Blaise glanced at them lazily from where he was sunken into a deplorably worn and comfortable chair. Those certainly weren't the traditional French names they'd encountered.

And he'd been sure they'd known the names of all the villagers.

"Oh, yes! That's right, it is. My, they grow so fast. I remember when the lovely lady had first come home.", the older man smiled fondly, wrinkles crinkling in a pleasant-old-man sort of way. "And those children were wee infants. And now they're growing up!", he chuckled warmly. The woman nodded fondly.

"Maybe the good lady will find a good man soon, now that the children have grown so much.", she said slyly and he barked out a pleasant croaking laugh, slapping the counter lightly.

"Now you know she wouldn't marry a man not much older than her little darlings."

"My grandson is far more mature than the other boys his age you know."

"And Lady Zephyrus sees him as she sees all the village kids- _kids._", the man shook his head. Now Blaise was sitting up a little bit. They'd heard nothing of a Lady Zephyrus in the almost month they'd been here. He thought of one of their hypothetical theories- that Potter had given off the children to different people in different places. It was something they'd hoped didn't happen, wanting to find them in one shot. And he knew that Weasley and Granger's child was named Annalee, and that Potter was her godfather. This Lady Zephyrus might have some information on where he is, and potentially where the other children were, if they were separated. After all, their conversation indicated she had more than one child. If they were very _very_ lucky, she'd have them all.

"Well either way. Beaumont's girl will be approaching young Cassiopeia in the next festival when the Zephyrus come down.", a festival, huh? Blaise returned his gaze to his book deciding to wait until the two idiots come to bother him about doing something productive with the day.

xXx

It was not three days later that the three men were in wait for this Zephyrus family that had somehow managed to elude them entirely. In the meantime, they were examining their surroundings. Granian races, playful duels, all sorts of entertainment and drink. They weren't aware immediately when they came, not until a woman not too far shouted out, _"__Madam!"_

And then they were suddenly craning around, slipping back and making sure they were more heavily concealed. When, however, they saw the group that appeared, they were momentarily stunned.

"There's no, absolutely no-"

"Oh yes there is.", Rosier said darkly, getting over his surprise easily enough and quickly trying to memorize the faces of the children. They weren't much children anymore though, in the mid teens by now. "We knew that Potter might've gone to measures such as these.", it was two theories they'd almost entirely disregarded. That he would keep all the children with him, or that slight, very slight chance that he'd have taken on the identity and appearance of a woman.

But even the fucking _scar_ was visible. There was also the likely chance that it was merely a decoy, the woman playing the part of a female version of Harry Potter. There was no way that Potter would make such a complex security and maze of information, only to simply change his appearance to that of a female version of himself. Not after all the cunning intelligence put into the plan and he quietly told the men so. While still rattled and disturbed (in Malfoy's case), they quickly agreed, calming down and looking at the teens that scattered through the crowd soon enough.

They dare not take the children right now- no doubt the villagers' memories had been tampered with to make sure others couldn't access information about the family in hopes of deterring searchers who might've made it this far. If there was that much careful, delicate precaution in that, there would be so many more protections surrounding the children. Zabini stayed close to the Lady while the other two slunk through the crowd to watch the children carefully. The reason for Zabini staying was that he was simply the best to read body language and personality traits by way of watching and hearing conversation. And Malfoy was too disturbed at the image of a female Potter, even if they knew it was simply a ruse or a decoy. Rosier was too interested in trying to pin down the children's magical signatures to follow back to their dwelling, where eventually they could act.

Not that Blaise minded overly much about it. He was serious when he'd told them that it was a fantasy to have Potter under him. Even if it wasn't really Potter, it looked like Potter. He licked his lips. She wasn't as full figured as he _normally_ like his women, but he did occasionally enjoy the smaller daintier kind. It was one of those types of women, he believed, that mothered his child.

Besides, a female Potter would make bedding his once-classmate much more enjoyable.

**XXXXXXXX**

So! The second chapter. Is finally being posted up. It's a little rushed, but eh. I'm content with it. AND I HOPE YOU ARE TOO~! So review! It makes me happy. Ridiculously happy.


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